


Conspiracy

by orphan_account



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: Bermuda Triangle, conspiracy theorists, dear evan hansen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:07:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12933006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Each year, countless aircrafts fly across the ocean, and then disappear off of the radar. No one knows where they went. The government tells us that everything will be fine, everything will be cleared up. They don’t tell us who was on the plane, all we know is what relatives and family tell us. Soon we forget about the incident, and no one knows what really happened.Conspiracy Theorist-a person who holds a theory that explains an event or situation as the result of a secret plan by usually powerful people or groups.I am a conspiracy theorist.All because of conpiracy theories, I had choices. I made wrong choices. I made some good choices. And I discovered more than I ever thought I would discover.





	1. Prologue

Each year, countless aircrafts fly across the ocean, and then disappear off of the radar. No one knows where they went. The government tells us that everything will be fine, everything will be cleared up. They don’t tell us who was on the plane, all we know is what relatives and family tell us. Soon we forget about the incident, and no one knows what really happened.  
A conspiracy theorist is someone who comes up with a theory, explaining the unexplainable, usually involving disbelieving someone.  
I am a conspiracy theorist. And when I declare that as my role, it is my job to tell you my experiences, and what really happens to those planes, disappearing without a trace.  
The story begins around four years ago, when I was a mere beginner. I did not try to prove my theories. It was a, “This is what these people tell us, this is what I think really happens.” But one day, four years ago, I came across a conspiracy theory that I wanted to investigate.  
You may not believe in conspiracies, or at least any coming from the government. The government will deny everything I say. I have no pictures, so it’s their word against mine. I wouldn’t go and tell them that I’m right, though. You might not be telling anyone anything if that’s your choice.  
Anyway, four years ago.  
My theory was simple-years ago, when we didn’t have satellites, the people of the world were determined to make a world map, so that we would know where we were going, how far it would be to get there, and what landscape would be in our way. We did, we came up with an incredible map for people without satellites.  
Then we actually got satellites! Big deal though-the government revealed that our ancestors were actually 100% accurate, there was nothing wrong with their map. So we made no changes.  
Have you ever looked a a globe? There is a big ocean mass, where it’s just ocean. There are also tiny islands in random places. Who’s to tell us that there’s not more tiny islands, that the government decided to tell us about? The answer is simple-the government. They tell us that the map is the map, there’s nothing more to it. And we believe them. They’re the government. They don’t lie to us, right?  
On a different note, countless planes go missing in the middle of the ocean. No one knows where they go. Coincidence? I think not.  
My theory is that the government has taken those islands as their own, that they snatch planes out of midair, keeping them forever. The people in those planes are then used for testing.  
Whatever your reason for reading this story is, whether you want to know the secret of the Bermuda Triangle or you’re just really bored and don’t have anything else to read, I don’t care. If you continue, that’s your problem. Welcome to my failures, my successes, and the rest of my life.


	2. Conspirators

I was just out of college, maybe had a year or so. And this theory was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I lived in Kenneth City, and my new work building was on the outskirts.  
I strutted through the halls of the building, headed to my first meeting. I had a new uniform, and it was amazing. The uniforms aren’t actually that amazing, but I thought it was great. It was a plain, baggy white button-down, with a sharp, new black tie. At least, I assumed it was new. Now I’m not so sure...  
They gave me a selection of leggings, each with it’s own unique pattern. They always had weird patterns, with multiple colors. It was the strangest uniform I’d ever had, but I liked it.  
They also give you a notebook, a five subject notebook, for theories, notes, sketches and photographs.  
I glanced at the number I had written on my hand. I have a terrible memory. My poor memory will eventually cause a lot of trouble one of these days.  
The room number, for my first Conspiracy meeting ever...was 2204. I was incredibly disappointed. I mean, I suppose it wouldn’t be something outrageous, but, couldn’t it have least been something like 100? With two zeroes? Like, something that people wouldn’t expect to be in a building with room numbers 1000-3000.  
Oh well.  
I glanced up, looking at the increasing numbers. 1024, 1036...man, I was off.  
Finding the first elevator, I pressed the “up” button. It glowed purple. Purple. You know, just when you say something isn’t what you thought it would be…  
The elevator doors shifted open, revealing a tall man, dressed in an entirely black suit. He had a black tie, a black suit jacket, black dress pants, and a black dress shirt. He even had a black mustache and a black goatee, but had proceeded to shave his head.  
I had to pinch the bridge of my nose from laughing. Don't ask me how that works.  
I stood next to him in silence, pushing the button for floor 2. To my disappointment, the button glowed a dim yellow.  
We stood there as the elevator doors closed. After a second of waiting, I could feel the elevator moving up. Looking on the button pad, I noticed that the man had not pressed a floor. I pursed my lips, unsure of what to do next.  
And then I noticed what was off. The alarm button-the alarm button-was glowing a pale yellow. I must have made a noise, because when I looked at the man again, he was staring at me, confusion in his eyes.  
Startled, I flicked my eyes away from him. The elevator dinged. I glanced up at the number above the elevator, presuming it was my floor.  
Then, startled, I realized it said Floor 100. I looked back at the floor numbers. They only went to five.  
Turning around to face him, to my dismay, he was gone.  
I swung my head around, looking for the man. And then I noticed that the elevator had doors on both sides.  
Embarrassed, I crept out of the elevator, suddenly self-conscious. No one was around, but that didn’t stop the feeling that the whole day was going wrong.  
I stepped out, a bit worried. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to be going to floor 2. But curiosity won me over, and I travelled down the singular hall, in search of the man in black.  
Turning a corner, I almost missed him. I watched him duck into a room, the door lightly shutting behind him. Curious again, I carefully walked over to the door. There was no window, but I could tell the door wasn’t locked. Years of police training can do that to you.  
Then I happened to look at the room number. 2204.  
My mouth dropped open. No. It couldn’t be. I swallowed, my throat hurting. I take back everything I said about this not being super secret, super cool.  
Tentatively, I placed my hand on the door and pushed.

I could hear nothing. It was silent-horribly silent. The door creaked open, revealing a typical meeting room. There was people just sitting there, staring at me. I swallowed hard. Then, slowly, conversation started again.  
I exhaled. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.  
My heart pounded, my hands unclenched. And slowly, the color of my face returned to normal.  
I began walking towards an empty chair. It was on the end, so there was only one person next to me.  
She had awesome hair. It was brown, and cut short, and the tips were dyed in a fiery red. She had a red sweatshirt on over her dress shirt, and patterned black and grey leggings.  
I slid into the seat, not making eye contact with anyone. Then I sneezed.  
I could feel the flush that took over my face, and then eventually my neck. But to my surprise, the noise in the room never faltered.  
The only person in the room who vaguely noticed me was the girl next to me. She was the first person I looked to after that horrid sneeze. But to my surprise, she had a huge grin on her face. Not like a, Ha ha, you are the biggest idiot of the world, grin, but a, I’ve done the same exact thing, grin.  
“First day?” she asked, kicking her feet up onto the table.  
I opened my mouth to argue with her about keeping her feet off the table, but then shut it, choosing not to contradict someone with red hair.  
She turned her head towards me, the hair over her ears shifting, revealing a singular pierced ear.  
I nodded, responding to her previous question.  
She grinned again. My gosh, I already loved that grin.  
“Same with me.”  
My jaw dropped. It was her first day? She was so confident, so definitive, and rebellious.  
I glanced at the notebook dangling out of her hand lazily, it’s battered cover already covered in little doodles, short notes, and famous quotes. It was a green notebook-I had blue. Many of the doodles had slight color on them, as though she only possessed a black pen, a red pen, and a blue pen. The doodles appeared to be of dreams, perhaps, maybe past experiences, and random thoughts. One of them said, “potato cloning,” and it was hard not to break out in laughter. I picked out one I recognized. “No way…” I murmured.  
She stared at me curiously. My face began to burn again, which was beginning to become a habit. “Dear Evan Hansen?”  
Her face lit up. “Yes!”  
I could barely contain my wide smile. “That musical is the best! And Zoey, oh my gosh…”  
“He’s the best.”  
“I know!”  
We stared at each other, dopey smiles on our faces. Finally, I thought of something else to say. “I thought no one else in the whole world knew about ‘Dear Evan Hansen’.”  
We chatted for a while. I’d never known someone else who could relate to my taste in music and theatre. It was amazing.  
After we talked for five minutes or so, a boy, who didn't look much older than myself, stood at the front of the table, a few feet away from the girl and myself. He was wearing the standard uniform, the dress shirt, the black tie, and the dress pants. The only peculiar thing about his uniform was the sticker, or perhaps it was a plaque, that was on his breast pocket.  
He had blue and grey eyes, accenting his light brown hair. I suppose the correct term for that would be “cadet” blue.  
He cleared his throat, but no one appeared to hear him.  
He cleared his throat again, this time the room went dead silent. He grinned, then began speaking. “Hello. I understand that some of you had some trouble getting to the room.”  
A polite chuckle surrounded the room.  
His eyes turned dark as he continued. “I believe all of you are hear for conspiracy theorists. If you aren’t, I would like you to leave immediately.”  
His smile came back, his eyes turning bright again. “I see no one is in the wrong place. Then we will begin.”  
He began reciting names.  
“Abbot, Megan.”  
“Here.”  
“Anderson, Richie.”  
“Here.”  
I began tuning out, studying the people around me. Especially the girl next to me. I didn’t know how to exactly describe her features. They were all sharp, her cheekbones high, you could see them an inch underneath her eyes. Her skin powdery, speckled with different shades of color. She had a ski slope nose, it came down, and had a curve at the bottom.  
Her mouth was long, stretching across for a few inches, and her lips were full.  
I switched my attention to her eyes, which were bronze flecked with gold. And then I blinked, allowing my vision to extend. She was staring back at me.  
My face was burning. She was grinning, as though nothing odd had happened between us.  
“Garett, Fae. Is there a Garett, Fae here?”  
A startled expression flicked across the girl’s face, and then she hoisted her hand in the air, and it stretched, as though being pulled by an invisible force. “Sorry, here.”  
He rolled his eyes, then continued down the list.  
Fae. So that was the girl’s name. It was amazing, going along with the rest of her awesomeness. It was fantastical, as though it came straight of of a fantasy book.  
Screw that. It did come out of a fantasy book. Fae was another word for the fairies, the magical creatures of the lands.  
I was daydreaming still, until I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. I jumped, my heart racing. I freaked out. I glanced up, to see that the boy who had been taking attendance standing over me.  
“Gabriel,” he said softly.  
My heart was still pounding.  
“Yes?” I said, cringing at my squeaky voice.  
“That’s your name?”  
I nodded.  
He picked up his clipboard, checking me off. “Next time I call your name, please say ‘Here’”.  
I nodded weakly.  
He nodded curtly in a sort of salute, then walked off, his hair flipping around his face.  
I watched him walk off, then felt my pulse in a sort of conscious way. It was still thrumming in a disturbing way.  
I turned back to Fae to find her lost in thoughts, spinning from side to side with her feet still kicked up on the table, her binder forgotten. She turned to me, suddenly aware that I was watching her.  
“So…” she said.  
I sat, waiting for her to continue.  
Then the boy with flippy hair stood at the front again. “Alright, attendance has been taken, and the meeting of conspiracy theorists is officially started!”  
There was some polite clapping, but no one was thoroughly excited about this declaration. I assumed he probably spoke about this every single day, so I figured it wasn’t the most exciting thing for older initiates.  
He held up his clipboard, and began reading off names. “Nikki, Alix, Rion, and Mazy. You have all been given the opportunity to prove one of your theories. The creators have read your essays and they were remarkable. Please talk to me after if you would like the sponsorship.”  
There was a stunned silence. I wasn’t sure how amazing this was. Wasn’t proving your theories something that they did every day? Then someone started crying. I just sat there, horrified. I didn’t know what was going on.  
The boy with the clipboard dismissed this, then continued with announcements.  
“Also, you may have noticed that our dear friend, Alissa, is not with us today.”  
My eyes bugged out. He had such a cool demeanor towards this.  
“She is on a trip in Bolivia, researching the Bolivian Express,” he continued.  
I think my heart didn’t resolve beating to it’s normal beat for five minutes, perhaps six, maybe even seven.  
There was slight chatter in the room, but not enough to drown out the boy’s voice, so he ignored it.  
“Also,” he said. “We have new initiates here. I hope you will find them and welcome them. And finally, our last announcement. Craig, here,” the boy said, gesturing to someone in the back wearing a bright red t-shirt that was currently matching his face.  
“Has written a letter to the government. They have agreed to meet with about three of our people to discuss theories.”  
Excited whispers rounded the room. For the first time, I saw the boy with the clipboard smile. Or at least, the tips of his mouth flicked up for about, two seconds.  
“I’m not certain who to pick. If you would like to join this meeting, please stay after to discuss this,” he cleared his throat. “Open up your notebooks.”  
I turned to Fae. She didn’t seem interested at all. “No?” I asked.  
She shook her head. “Leave it to the older initiates.”  
I wasn’t sure if this was offending or not. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. This girl-Fae-seemed so bold, so certain...and she just wanted to let other people take the chance?  
My doubt must’ve shown through.  
Her eyes brightened, and then darkened. “No, you misunderstood me. I meant, they’ve been doing this for ages, and they’ve probably never had the chance. They’re also more experienced. Every day, for who knows how long, these people have been coming here, and they have never gotten this chance before. It’s only fair if they get first dibs.”  
She turned away from me, opening up her notebook.  
I melancholically turned to the table, opening up my perfect notebook. I began dwelling on what Fae had said. Every day, for who knows how long, these people have been coming here…  
I knew she was right. I didn't want to admit it, but she was right. I heard the boy with the clipboard begin to speak.  
“With your notebook, as most of you already note, you will begin writing, describing a theory that you come up with. I have provided for you books,” he motioned to a bookcase in the back of the room that was bursting with books. Some of the books that were sticking out had visible titles. I could see books about Vampires, Witch Trials, Haunted Houses, and of course, the scariest thing of all, the government.  
I turned my attention back to the guy with the clipboard. “I have also provided chromebooks,” he said, gesturing to his right where there was a chromebook cart. “Please use this to the best of your abilities. You may begin.¨  
Then he walked to a spot, and pulled out a notebook, identical to the ones all the other people had. I suddenly realized that it hadn't occurred to me that the guy with the clipboard wasn't necessarily a leader, he was just the person who kept order. He wasn't the teacher, he was going to do everything we did, too.  
Tentatively, I pulled out my notebook. I quickly glanced at Fae, seeing if she was working. She was just doodling, it looked like a cross between a dragon and a sea horse.  
I opened mine up, the perfectly white page blinding me. I didn't know what to write. I did a panorama around the room, to find that everyone was furiously scribbling down things.  
Making up my mind, I slowly walked to the chromebook cart, each step like a booming clap of thunder, every creak in the floor a scream, cutting through the air. I cringed every time I made a noise.  
Finally I reached the cart, and I carefully pulled out chromebook 26, my lucky number. I've always liked number 26 because it´s thirteen, except doubled.  
Then I began the treacherous walk back.  
When I finally got it to turn it on, it seemed as though hours had passed by. I felt hot, and itchy. I didn't want to scratch, because that would make too much noise.  
I opened up chrome, and then hesitated. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then, slowly, I typed in, “Paranormality.” Instantly, I had a result. Rather, 85,100 results.  
And I began looking. There were entries about so many theories, so many ideas. Excited, I began opening windows, hoping I wouldn't overload my browser.  
And then I saw it. An entry about the Bermuda Triangle. It was the most perfect thing ever. I immediately closed all the windows I had, and researched the Bermuda Triangle.  
There were 5,340,000 results. It blew me away how many people had theories, how many people had disappeared, and most importantly, how much information had been gathered. I found one entry about a guy who went to the Bermuda Triangle. He came back, to everyone’s surprise, rambling about lies, and betrayal, and more lies. Everyone depicted him as crazy.  
Or there was someone’s theory, who believed that aliens inhabited the islands that lay there, and that they were hidden from heat sensors. That if you flew above the Bermuda Triangle, or sailed near it, they would capture you, making sure you never escaped to tell their story.  
There was pictures and names about people that had gone missing sailing or flying above the Bermuda Triangle. I quickly printed them out, stuffing them in my pocket for later.  
I was so wrapped up in my newfound work, I barely noticed when the guy with the clipboard announced, “Alright, everyone, thank you for your time, I should expect to see you all on Friday, two days from now, same time, same place. Have a great time!”  
Finally, Fae took the liberty of patting my shoulder to bring me back to reality. “Hey, you.” she said playfully.  
I glanced up, grinned, then went back to my work. I didn’t need to turn around to see the pout on her face. “Hello, I was talking to you!”  
I sighed, then shut down the chromebook. “I’m sorry, I just, I found this amazing theory, and…” I trailed off, noting the bored expression on her face.  
She looked up from her fingernails apologetically. “I’m sorry, I’m not in the mood. But,” she stared off into space. Suddenly, her head snapped back in my direction. “Hey, do you want to go out for coffee tomorrow?”  
I was taken aback, but found my voice. “Uh, yeah! That would be great! What time? And where?”  
She grinned, as though she had planned her answer. “Do you know the Smoky Cabin?”  
I thought for a moment. “I think. That’s the one with the weird blue sign, right?”  
Fae chuckled. “Yes, that one. Can you do three o’clock?”  
I nodded, then pulled out my phone, grateful that I had decided to get one recently. “Yeah, that works. See you then!”  
She grinned, then we walked out the door together, and I walked over to my bike. Fae followed me. “You ride a bike? That is so cool!”  
I grinned, then strapped my pink helmet that I had gotten for my thirteenth birthday from my parents, and took off with a dopey grin on my face.  
And then I remembered I didn’t drink coffee.


	3. Over Coffee

The next day, I pulled out my laptop, and began researching the Bermuda Triangle again. There was so much to learn, yet so little time.  
After an hour or so, I looked at the clock. 1:30. I had an hour and a half before I went out for coffee.  
Grudgingly, I got out of my workspace and began cleaning up. I still had to eat lunch and prepare.  
I walked to the kitchen of my apartment. I had gotten a pretty good apartment. There was two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. A couple of years ago, I had shared it with one of my friends, but she left for a job in Canada. I had chosen to keep on renting the apartment.  
I began mindlessly opening cabinets, and the refrigerator, then other cabinets, and the refrigerator again. Finally, I discovered an unopened Weight Watchers frozen meal. It wasn’t one of my favorites-tuna casserole, but it would work.  
I sat in front of the microwave, watching it spin around, and around, and around, and around…  
Finally, it beeped, and I realized how lonely I was. I had been living alone for a year, now, and I rarely went out. A thought crossed my mind. Was Fae looking for a roommate?  
I shook the thought out. I barely knew her.  
I stopped staring at the gray microwave and unwrapped it. Fae or not, I should still get a roommate, I thought, determined.  
Then I began slowly eating the tuna casserole.  
It took me a few minutes to do that, and then I changed clothes. I didn’t know quite what to wear to a coffee shoppe. It occurred to me that I hadn’t been to a coffee shoppe in ages. I finally settled on a thin, tan sweater, a maroon infinity scarf and matching maroon leggings. Then I pulled my dirty blonde hair into a loose bun.  
I smiled in front of the mirror. I looked great. Perfect.  
Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was two thirty. It was a good time to leave. I grabbed my keys-one for my bike lock, the other for my apartment door-and then hesitated. My eyes drifted to where my laptop sat, waiting. Should I bring it with? I wasn’t sure what Fae had planned for this meet, so…  
Making up my mind, I jerked the laptop into the bag, and slung it over my shoulder. Satisfied, I walked out the door, locking it behind me.  
I arrived about ten minutes before our designated time. I took a deep breath. Then I pushed the door open, proudly walking into the coffee shop. It was just like described in the books. Simple, no elaborate decor on the walls. There was small tables around with two to three chairs, and soft lighting. There was a long table, with a bartender wearing a band t-shirt, black leggings, and an apron standing behind it. Playing overhead was light piano music. There was only three other people in the shop. Wait, make that three, I thought, my eyes catching the boy sitting on the windowsill, clearly oblivious to anything going on besides the music coming out of his headphones.  
I walked over to a table with two chairs, sitting down. I checked my phone for the time. 2:52. It seemed as though Fae was never going to show.  
The minutes dragged by, as I listened to the radio playing Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Rachmaninoff, and Beethoven, causing my thoughts to drift smoothly.  
The bell above the cafe door dinged, sharpening my senses. I immediately saw Fae, her hair perfectly curved around her face. She was wearing a black shirt, with a red plaid shirt hanging, unbuttoned. It brought out her red-dyed hair.  
A grin took over my face in an instant, seeing her bright and chipper.  
“How are you, today?” she asked.  
I smiled. “Good, as of yourself?”  
She nodded in reply. Not missing a beat, she immediately filled the sudden silence with, “You wanna’ order now?”  
I nodded. I had been comforted by the smell of coffee, tea, and steamers, but it had also tempted me to death.  
I stood up, gracious that Fae was no longer towering over me. We walked to the counter, side by side. The bartender smiled. “Hi, how may I help you today?” she said, the normal waitress ritual.  
I studied the menu while Fae ordered. I didn’t drink coffee, so that was out of the matter.  
I wasn’t entirely sure about tea, either. It has a particularly bland taste, if you ask me. But steamers...I was fairly certain that was flavored, heated, warm milk, but I wasn’t certain.  
Fae nudged me. “Are you going to order?”  
I sighed, my eyes locked on the menu. Turning toward her, I asked, “What would you suggest?”  
“Chai Tea,” she said, almost a second after my question.  
That was good enough for me. I turned to the bartender, ordering a chai tea. We stood, waiting as she prepared our drinks.  
I chewed on my fingernail, unsure of what to say. But Fae, being her awesome self, began talking.  
“So guess what?” she said, lowering her voice, leaning in towards me.  
I leaned in, too. Our faces were an inch apart.  
“You know that tour that Dear Evan Hansen is doing?” she inquired, her eyes dancing.  
I shook my head. This was news to me. “Well,” she said, her face showing disappointment. Clearly she had hoped I would know. “They’re doing a tour this January, one of their shows is going to be in Harnsney.”  
Harnsney was a town four hours from here.  
“No way,” I said, shaking my head.  
Her grin spread wider. “Yes way.”  
I bearhugged her. “Oh my gosh, Fae!” I said, my voice squealing.  
She laughed, then put a finger to her lips. “Shh. You're the only person I’ve told so far.”  
Someone cleared their throat. We turned, pulling apart, to see the waitress standing there with our drinks. I sheepishly smiled at her, and took my chai tea, it’s warmth seeping through the cup.  
We walked back to our table, sitting down. I gently let my cup rest on the table. “That is so cool, Fae,” I said genuinely.  
She nodded. “Thank you. I’m so excited. It’s going to be amazing.” Fae cocked her head at me. “How did you discover Dear Evan Hansen?”  
I went quiet, my chai tea suddenly feeling cold. I could feel my eyes burning. “It was-my sister, she was the one who showed it to me. Three years ago.” It was becoming harder and harder to talk. I sniffled, feeling pathetic. “Her name was Alixa. Two years ago she got in a car crash because her boyfriend was drinking and driving.”  
I could still remember that boyfriend, he was terrible. Alixa always claimed that he was a good person at heart, that she could convince him to turn his back on all the bad things he had done. He never would, and we all knew that, but Alixa had been twenty-three, old enough to make her own decisions.  
I felt Fae take my hand. “She died. Her head hit the dashboard. Her boyfriend had been driving at 70 mph. He didn’t even slow down when he saw the car coming head on. He was so drunk he didn’t realize he was driving in the wrong lane.”  
I could feel wetness dripping down my cheeks, but I didn’t care at that moment. He died, and the people that he hit died. And Alixa. Alixa died, too.  
Sniffling, I felt Fae begin to rub my back. Taking deep breaths, I wiped my face using a napkin that was lying on the table. I closed my eyes, and took more deep breaths. “Okay,” I said. “I’m okay now.”  
I felt her hand leave mine, it’s absence leaving a chill. I looked up to find Fae staring at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.  
I shook my head. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”  
We didn’t have much to say to each other after that, until I finally remembered what I had wanted to talk about in the first place.  
“Hey…” I said.  
She looked up.  
“I was wondering,” I said, shifting awkwardly in my seat. “If maybe, I could tell you about my theory?”  
She smiled, then nodded. “Yeah, that would be fine.”  
I leaned back in my chair. There was potential for this to take a long time.  
“So,” I began. “You know the Bermuda Triangle, right?”

After about, ten minutes, I had finally finished. And there was silence. Horrible silence. I swallowed. “So…?”  
Fae blinked. “It was pretty good,” she said slowly. “I’m sure there’s lots of people that have similar ideas as you.”  
My heart was crumbling. “But, not you?” I cringed at how weak and pathetic I sounded.  
She lowered her head. “Gabriel,” she said, trying to take my hands.  
I pulled my hands away. “What’s wrong with it?” I snapped.  
It had come out sharper than I intended it to, and it appeared that Fae was taking it to heart. “It’s just, Gabriel, I support the government.”  
I sat there in silence, allowing this news to wash over me. “I’m really sorry,” I could hear her saying. “But-”  
I stood up, my chair squealing back. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see everyone in the coffee shop staring at us, even the guy on the windowsill. “It’s fine, Fae,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “Just leave it.”  
Then I turned on my heel and walked out the door, growling at the tiny bell dinging.

I flumped on my bed, silently sobbing. Everything inside of me hurt, and I didn’t know what to do. It was one of my first major crises living outside of my home. One of my first major crises without my sister.  
Thinking of Alixa only made me sob harder, burying my face in the pillow. My breaths became short and shallow, my cheeks hurting from crying.  
I got up, sniveling, and walked to the bathroom. I stared in the mirror, my hair all messed up, my red face, and my disgruntled clothing, and I nearly laughed. I looked ridiculous.  
My pocket began buzzing, and it took my addled brain to realize that it wasn’t actually my pocket buzzing, but my phone, which happened to be in my pocket.  
I pulled out my phone, seeing my reflection in the glassy black screen. I turned it on, and saw I had two new messages. They were both from an unknown phone number.  
I stared at the messages.  
**gabriel?  
** **gabriel, please answer, I’m sorry.  
** **are you okay?  
** **please gabriel, you’re worrying me.  
** **oh yah, this is fae, jsyk.  
** **gabriel?  
** I stared numbly at my phone, unsure of what to send back.  
**how did you get my #?  
** I had my answer within seconds.  
**i stole your phone when you weren’t looking, :P  
** I growled, then tossed my phone on the bed. I was still mad at Fae, whether she apologized or not. I could hear my phone buzz again, and guilt overcame me. I sighed, then jumped on the bed, grabbing my phone.  
**i can make it up to you.  
** **how?  
** There was a pause at this, but she finally responded.  
**you can come to Dear Evan Hansen with me.  
** My throat went dry. Was she telling the truth? Or was she pulling my leg?  
**are you serious?  
** **yes.  
** **that would TOTALLY make it up.  
** **that’s why i mentioned it.  
** **can we talk about this more 2morrow?  
** **yes.  
** **alright. g’nite.  
** **g’nite.  
** I fell back on my bed. I was going to Dear Evan Hansen with Fae. And we made up.  
I wiped my face with my sleeve, my face feeling dry and cracked from tears staying. But I didn’t care. I was going to Dear Evan Hansen with Fae.  
It occurred to me to add Fae as a contact. I did. Then I looked at the time,it was already eight-thirty. So I got into my PJ’s, and curled up, content in my bed.


	4. 616 Rice Lake Road, Banderton

Two months later it was December, one month before the concert. We had an early morning meeting, at 8:00, and I wasn’t very thrilled. Alas, I still went to the meeting, despite the terrible bags underneath my eyes.   
I immediately saw Fae as I walked through the door. Her bright smile was somewhat encouraging to my crappy morning.  
The meeting started abruptly, and I assumed I must’ve been late. I had found out that the guy-with-the-clipboard’s name happened to be Guy. Just so you know.  
Guy stood up, and took attendance. We went through the day as normal. I had gotten multiple facts on the Bermuda Triangle by now, and I was an expert.  
After the meeting, I was walking out with Fae, and Guy pulled me aside.   
I swallowed. His hair flipped in front of his face, and he lifted a hand to brush it away.   
“Gabriel?” he said.   
I nodded.   
“I’ve been reading your theories, and...well, the board was reading your theories. They said that, you know your Bermuda Triangle one?”  
I nodded encouragingly. I mean, it was the only one that I had, but that didn’t matter right now. I threw a quick glance toward Fae. She was leaning on the doorframe, looking as bored as ever. I silently worded, Wait.   
She rolled her eyes, then slowly swung her way out of the room.   
I turned my attention back to Guy. He was staring at his feet. I cleared my throat, and he looked up, startled.   
“Oh! Yeah, um…” he paused, cocking his head. I assumed he was trying to remember what he had been talking about.  
“My Bermuda Triangle theory…?” I said slowly.  
He nodded vigorously. “Right, your Bermuda Triangle theory. Yeah, the board was reading your theory, and they wanted to give you the opportunity to prove it. They already contacted a bounty pilot for the trip, and all you have to do is go and bring him the money on the selected date.”  
I stared at him in shock. “What?”  
He rolled his eyes. “I said the board was reading your theory, and-”  
“No!” I shook my head. “Never mind. I know what you said. Just, are you being serious?”  
He nodded.   
I heard a quiet, ahem. I glanced toward the door to find Fae standing there, looking bored as ever.   
I began walking in her direction. “Sorry,” I called to Guy. “Thanks for letting me know, but I have to leave now!”  
When I neared the door, Fae fell into step beside me. “What was that all about?”  
I stopped, turning to face her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Guess what?”  
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like guessing games.”  
“Nevermind that. I-you’d never guess if you tried-I get to go the Bermuda Triangle and prove me theory! Guy said that the board thought my theory was really great, and that-”  
“Whoa. Wait,” Fae said, holding her hands up. “Backtrack. What? Bermuda Triangle? I’m confused.”  
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I thought I told you. It’s my theory. But anyways-I get to prove my theory! Isn’t that great?”  
Fae nodded, staring off into space. “Did he tell you what time? What day?”  
I paused. Did I really forget to ask him when? I kicked myself for being an idiot. “Nooo,” I said, dragging out the vowel.   
She rolled her eyes, then snapped her gum. I hadn’t even realized she’d been chewing gum. Then she spun around and began walking to the door. Disappointed, I scurried after her. I’d expected her to be a bit more excited for me, so I was mildly hurt.

Two days later, I went up to Guy and began asking questions about the trip.   
“So...when is it?”  
He glanced at me, a twinge of annoyance showing up on his face. “When’s what?”  
“The trip?” I said.   
“Oh!” he pulled a slip of paper out of his clipboard. “Here. This should be the answer to all of your questions.”  
I scanned the paper. It had multiple dates, places, and times. I looked up and grinned at Guy. “Thanks!”  
“No problem,” he said, then went back to looking at his clipboard.  
I sat down. Fae was already sitting next to me. I showed her the paper. “Look what Guy gave me!”  
Her eyebrows lifted. “A piece of paper?”  
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Fae. It’s a list of the times and places and dates of the trip!”  
“Thrilling.”  
I opened up the calendar on my phone so I could enter all the dates and times and places.   
I silently read the letter.   
Dear Recipient,  
We understand that you are planning to take a trip to prove one of your theories. If this is not you, please return this letter immediately. We congratulate you if this is you for being selected and working hard. This is a huge commitment so please take this seriously.  
You shall meet someone on JANUARY 12-19 at 616 RICE LAKE ROAD, BANDERTON. Congratulations, again. Please use this time to the best of your ability. You will bring a certain amount of money sent by your group leader to meet your bounty hunter. We are not supplying you with supplies besides the trip and the guide, so don’t forget to pack. This will be a FLIGHT to THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE. Please be there at 8:00 A.M. SHARP! Thank you for your time.  
-The Board of Conspiracy Theorists  
Excited, I began to put the information into my phone. I made a new day, and put the times and days in. Then I checked to make sure that it had worked correctly, and my heart dropped. My trip with Fae was on the same week.   
I stared at my phone, a pit forming in my stomach. This was only something that happened in books, wasn’t it? Where the character had to choose between friends and family and your work, or your dreams.   
I glanced at Fae, and she was doodling on her notebook. I turned my phone off, and slid it into the pocket, hoping she hasn’t noticed.  
She looked up at me, a guilty expression on her face. I stared at her, a puzzled expression on my face.  
“What did you do?”  
She guiltily grinned, then held up her notebook. And then I realized that it was mine.   
“Hey!” I said, then attempted to grab my notebook. A wide grin spread across her face.  
I finally managed to snag my notebook back, staring at the designs that she had drawn. There was swirls, I think they’re called Zentangle. There was a reverse-Picasso drawing of a blue woman. I stared at Fae in awe.   
“You did this?” I asked, in a hushed voice.   
She nodded, clutching her stomach and looking away. I chose not to prod, only staring at my notebook in disbelief. How had Fae done this? Why had she chosen to major in Theories, rather than Art? She could’ve gone a long way.  
“So,” she said after a while, clearly over what had happened earlier. “When’s the trip?”  
I stared at her, my mouth dry. “I, uh, I, um. No.”  
She looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Gabriel, I watched him give the paper to you. It had the date on it. What was the date?’  
I swallowed, hard. “I don’t know,” I said quickly.   
She continued to stare at me. “I’ll tell you later, I promise,” I said, attempting to cover up my flaw. “We have to get to work now.”  
Then I abruptly stood up and walked to the chromebook cart, my arms stiff. I sat back down, and I could feel Fae staring at me. But I didn’t look at her.   
Despite that...incident, I had to gather as much information as I could before the trip.   
I swallowed again, cold realization filling me. If I go, I reminded myself. If I go.

After the session, I got up and tried to leave as quickly as I could, but Fae still managed to catch me.   
“So?” she said. “When’s the day? You promised.”  
I bit my tongue for promising. Then I sighed, meeting her eyes. “Please Fae, I don’t want to tell you.”  
She looked mournfully at me. “Gabriel, I’m sorry, but if it’s that important that you keep a day from me...I have to know, don’t you understand?’  
I stared into her eyes, and sighed again. “Fine.”  
Tears bit the edges of my eyes. “It’s on the same week that we’re going to Dear Evan Hansen.”  
I saw Fae bring a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. But I continued. “I’m choosing the trip. This is an amazing opportunity and I wouldn’t want to pass it up. I’m sorry, but I’m passionate about this theory and love it.”  
Then I turned around, walking-no, it was almost running, away from Fae. She didn’t follow me that time.  
I slid onto my bike seat, and I then biked away. I could tell I had hurt Fae. But that wasn’t going to change my decision. This was important to me, and there was an extremely rare chance for this opportunity. A one-in-a-lifetime chance.   
I felt a small weight lift off my chest as I thought about the letter. “The board has read your theory and approved it.”  
But I was still burdened by the thought of Fae.   
The trip arrived quickly. It seemed as though there was no time in between my fight with Fae and the day before my trip. I had packed everything-my toothbrush, my hairbrush, my laptop, in case I needed to check up on my theories, some clothes, three cameras-a good one, a smaller one, an extremely tiny one that could not be seen by the naked eye. I was certain I was ready. I looked at the note.  
“You will bring a certain amount of money sent by your group leader to meet your bounty hunter,” and “616 Rice Lake Road, Banderton.” Bounty hunter? Guy hadn’t said anything about that at all yet, so I wasn’t sure about that.   
“616 Rice Lake Road, Banderton,” I muttered to myself. I’ve heard of Banderton. It’s just outside of the town I was born in, so that wouldn’t be difficult. But it’s roads? Street names? I wouldn’t be so keen on those.   
I swung my laptop onto my lap, quickly bringing up Google Maps. I searched, “616 Rice Lake Road, Banderton.” The corners of my mouth turned down at the results. There was only a message displayed, saying: 

Maps can’t find 616 rice lake road banderton  
Make sure your search is spelled correctly. Try adding a city, state, or zip code.

I was extremely disappointed. Then I tried “616 Banderton.” There it was. A little arrow pointing to a spot. There was no roads going towards it. I tried searching “Rice Lake Road,” but had no such luck. I sighed. Why did this have to be so complicated.   
I studied the paper, flipping it over. The first thing that caught my attention was the little sticker that said, “Guy Martin-888-979-22⌧⌧(sorry, I don’t want anyone knowing Guy’s phone number, 


	5. Oatmeal is Not Good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, short chapter. Very short chapter.

When I woke up, it was morning again. But we weren’t moving. I stared out the window. We were in the middle of a forest. I turned to Hannes, my mouth open, but to my astonishment he was gone.  
Panicking, I pulled the door open, and bolted.  
“Gabriel!”  
I turned to find Hannes sitting on the ground, a little campfire in front of him. “Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I can’t fly while sleeping.”  
Relieved, I went over to sit by him. My pulse slowly went down, my breathing returning to normal. I inhaled, the glorious scent of pancakes filling my lungs. “No way,” I whispered.  
I could see Hannes smile out of the corner of my eye. “Thought we’d start out good. But, just so you know, it won’t be like this forever,” he leaned closer his eyes twinkling. “Tomorrow it’s oatmeal.”  
I pushed him away, laughing. Then I pulled my knees up to my chin, shivering. Realization filled me. I didn’t know where we were. I didn’t know what time it was. And it was incredibly disturbing.  
“Hannes?”  
“Han.”  
“Han?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Where are we? And what time is it? How far are we from the Bermuda Triangle?”  
Hannes sat there in silence, staring at the sky. “Do you ever take a minute to notice the beauty of the world around-”  
“Han. Where are we?”  
“Fine. I honestly,” he sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Did you bring your phone with you?”  
I nodded, pulling it out. “Use your GPS.”  
I opened my phone and turned on the data. Then I opened GPS. But the little search circle kept on searching.  
I shook my head. “No service.”  
Hannes sighed. “I think we’re in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. On an unknown island.”  
I swallowed. We were in the Bermuda Triangle. And we didn’t know where we were. I shivered again, eeriness filling me. I already didn’t like it here.  
“So,” Hannes said, breaking the silence. “Tell me about your theory.”  
“It’s already coming true,” I said, my voice seeming loud in the silence. “The government has hidden islands in the Bermuda Triangle. All the planes that disappear? They’re taking them-testing people.”  
He nodded. “Eligible.”  
After a while, he stood up. “We should get moving. We’re killing daylight.”  
I stood up. “What do we do now?”  
He stopped walking to the copter. “Whaddya mean?”  
I shifted from foot to foot. “Like, we’re at the place, what do we do now?”  
Hannes shrugged. “That’s up to you, now.” He stepped into the copter, leaving me standing there, pondering my next move.  
I slowly climbed into the helicopter, and sat down. I was disappointed in myself. It was my first great experience, amazing experience, and I was already bombing it. I tried to come up with any possible idea, forming a plan in my head.  
Hannes began to turn the key, but I stopped him. “Wait,” I said. “There were missing people. I have their pictures.”  
Hannes raised an eyebrow. “Dang, girl, you were prepared.”  
I ignored his comment, pulling out the pictures. “We’re going to wander around this island.”  
Hannes choked. “What?”  
I ignored him. “If we find anything, we mark it down. We take pictures. End of story.”  
I began packing up while Hannes tried to compensate what was happening. “Wait, we’re going out there?”  
“Yes, we’re going out there,” I said, annoyed.  
I finished packing up and turned to Hannes. “Please pack up,” I said politely.  
He sighed. “Look, this is a death wish.”  
I shook my head. “Pack. Now.”  
He shook his head, but slowly got up. “Fine, kid. But I warned you.”  
Then we began our long trek through a hidden island in the Bermuda Triangle. After a day, we began finding human traces.  
“Look!” I shouted to Hannes. I ran over to where a fire pit had been. Hannes eyes lit up.  
We set up camp, and went to sleep for the night.


	6. Yvonne and Her Little Town

I woke up with a hand covering my mouth. I began to flail, but then I saw that it was Hannes. He put a finger to his lips, and removed his hand.  
As I listened, I could hear a soft humming. Terrified, I looked to Hannes, but he looked just as defenseless as I did.   
The humming grew louder...and louder...and louder….and then it just stopped. I could hear small scuffling footsteps, and then a little, “sh!” I was having trouble controlling my terrified breathing.   
I heard a tentative step, and then another, and then a throat being cleared. Hannes turned to me, revealing a pocket knife. Trembling, I nodded. He carefully unzipped the tent, and crawled out, soundless.   
Then I heard him speaking. “Don’t move, please put your hands in the air where I can see them.”  
I slowly crawled out, joining Hannes. He had the knife out, and there was two shadowy figures in front of him.   
“Get the flashlight,” he muttered to me out of the corner of his mouth. I nodded, then retrieved it from inside the tent.   
He turned it on the figures, and a gasp slipped out of my mouth. There was an old lady and a boy, who didn’t seem much older than myself. “Please state your names,” Hannes said, but I could hear the surprise waver his voice.  
The boy took a step forward. “We should state our names? You’re intruders in our land. You should be-”  
“Jerome! Quiet,” the woman hissed.   
I studied the two figures before me. They weren’t wearing modern clothes, but they weren’t exactly wearing animal skins and hand knit clothes. The boy’s hair was jaggedly cut, and the woman’s was nicely braided around her head. They were each wearing rough cut leather sandals.  
The woman stepped forward. “Identify yourselves, intruders.”  
I looked at Hannes. He shrugged. “They look harmless enough,” he whispered. “Just give false names.”  
He turned back to the woman. “My name is Ben Young, and this is-”  
“My name is Hope Young,” I said, interrupting Hannes. “We’re here to study the Bermuda Triangle.”  
The woman’s eyes lit with hope. “You’re from the Americas?” she asked, her voice filled with wonder.  
Unsure, I nodded. She leapt forward, taking my hands. “You both must come back to my village. They will be thrilled!”  
I sent a nervous glance to Hannes, and he discreetly nodded. The woman began walking down a barren path, but we stayed put. She turned around. “Please, come,” she said, her wrinkled face bent into a smile. “Our village would love to meet you.”  
I turned to Hannes, and he wasn’t moving. “Who are you?” he demanded.   
She continued smiling. “Ah, I’m sorry. We haven’t introduced ourselves. This is just so exciting…” she turned to the boy. “This is Jerome, and my name is Hiroko. Please.”  
Hannes shrugged, then slid the knife into his back pocket and began following the woman. I stayed close behind.  
The path was crisscrossed with tree roots and littered with fallen branches. There was branches dangling at head height. After a long trek, we finally reached an open clearing. The woman stopped.  
Jerome took out a small whistle, and then put it to his lips. It made two shrill calls. Then we began walking again. After passing through the clearing, we reached yet another path, but this time it was much shorter. Then, we came out and reached a village.   
We began walking to the center, and it was hard to ignore the stares we were getting. As we walked by, every person would stop what they were doing to stare at us.   
The village was old-fashioned, with wood houses, animals everywhere, it was very rustic.   
We finally reached the center, where a beautiful stone building stood. In front of it was a woman. Her features were tall, and she had her dark-brown hair wrapped in what looked like a crown.   
As we drew nearer, she stood there, not blinking, not moving. Hiroko approached, bowing her head. “Ma’am, we found these two in the middle of the woods. They say-they claim, ma’am, they’re from the Outside.”  
I kept my head lowered, but I could feel her eyes boring into me. “From the Outside?” she said, her words soft and measured.   
Hiroko nodded. “There’s nowhere else, ma’am.”  
The woman nodded. “Indeed, Hiroko.”  
Then she began walking towards Hannes and I. “Well, Outsiders, care to tell me your names?”  
“My name is Hope. Hope Young,” I said a bit quickly.  
“Ben,” Hannes said, not taking his eyes off the woman. “Ben Young.”  
The woman nodded. “Well then, I suppose you’ll be wanting an explanation? Please, come with me. You both look very hungry.”  
Hannes and I followed the woman, exchanging whispers as we walked through the huge doors. “Do you agree with this place?” I whispered to Hannes.  
He shook his head. “I’m not sure what to think.”  
I felt a tug on the pack I’d been carrying, and turned to see a guard. I tentatively gave it away. Hannes stiffened when the guard touched his pack, but let him have it. The guard also reached for his messenger bag. “No,” Hannes said, taking a step back. “This stays with me.”  
I saw a muscle in the guard’s jaw tighten, but he inclined his head, backing away.  
We continued. The woman stopped in front of a door and opened it. “Take a seat.”  
We walked in to find ourselves in a beautiful dining room. There was a small table with four chairs. The surrounding room was covered in art and little trinkets. The huge windows let a extensive amount of light in, giving the room a homey feel.  
I sat down, and Hannes sat next to me. The woman sat across from us.   
A young girl came and brought a plate of biscuits. I immediately grabbed one, my stomach growling.  
“So,” the woman said. “Care you to tell me a little more about yourselves?”  
Hannes said nothing, so I took over. “Um, we’re from a small town near Banderton, Paia? I’m not sure if you’ve heard of us, we’re a secluded area.”  
She nodded.   
“Um, that’s it.”  
She sniffed. “Well, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Yvonne, and I am the elected official of this town. We call ourselves the Akrolis. Each of us is the victim of the Bermuda Triangle.”  
I leaned closer, eager to hear what she had to say. “How? I mean, how were you a victim of the Bermuda Triangle?”  
Yvonne sniffed again. “Years ago, the government sent missiles over the Bermuda Triangle, just off the Royal Naval Dockyard. The missiles would go into the water. Of course, these were unpolished missiles. They were dangerous. After much practice, the missiles had badly damaged the Bermuda Triangle.”  
I was intently listening. “The missiles that they had created were made to cause planes to stop working, as well as short out all the electronics. Because all of those missiles are now under the water below the Bermuda Triangle, causing any plane that happens to fly over the Bermuda Triangle too closely to crash. To stop working.”  
“My cell phone!” I gasped.   
Yvonne’s eyes widened. “You have a cell phone?”   
I nodded. “It wasn’t working. We tried to use my GPS but there was no signal.”  
Yvonne nodded sympathetically. “All the people on this island are victims of flying to closely over the Bermuda Triangle. Many of them died. We had to start our own civilization.”  
“Your photos.”   
Hearing Hannes voice surprised me, as he had said nothing so far. I gaped at him. “Your photos,” he repeated.   
Then it struck me. The photos! I pulled them out. “Why didn’t I think of this before?” I muttered.   
I flipped through the files until I found the one I’d been looking for. “Yvonne Marais, 23 years old. Disappeared: 1991.”  
Yvonne looked away. “I’ve been missing for ages. I was the first to appear here. It wasn’t long after that government officials came looking for me, and got caught, just like myself.”  
I stared at her in wonder. She had been missing for ages. “And now you’re stuck here, just like us,” she murmured miserably.  
I shook my head excitedly, jumping up. “Yvonne, no. We’re not stuck here! We have a helicopter!”  
She lifted her head, her eyes filled with wonder. “A helicopter?”  
“Gabriel! No!” Hannes hissed, pulling me down. “Do you really think we can bring everyone back?”  
My heart sank. We could bring two people back. Myself and Hannes. “But we can still…” my voice trailed off. Once we got off the island we wouldn’t be able to come back.  
Yvonne stood up and patted me on the shoulder. “How long were you planning to stay here?”  
“A week,” I mumbled.   
“Well, then!” she said pleasantly. “You have much time to think about it. Tomorrow I’ll officially announce your arrival. I have a couple of guest rooms here. Garrett and Hopson will take you there,” she said, gesturing to two guards standing by the door.  
Then she walked out briskly, her long cloak flowing behind.  
Garrett and Hopson brought us to our rooms, which were right next to each other, and gave us our bags. We stood next to each other awkwardly. Finally Hannes took the liberty of saying something.  
“Honestly, Gabriel. These people are thriving fine. We can’t save them.”  
I folded my arms. “They’ve been through a lot and deserve more than we do,” I protested.   
He shook his head. “Look, your theory was wrong, okay? There’s nothing more we need to do here. These people-the children here? This is the only home they’ve ever known. If we took them to the Americas, they’d be in a new place, a new environment. They belong here.”  
Hannes shook his head. “Good night, Gabriel,” he said, opening his door.  
“Han, wait!” I said, going after Hannes. But I reached out a second too late, my hand only brushing hard wood.


	7. The Escape

The next morning I woke up to a loud pounding on my door. “Ms. Young? It’s the morning. I figured you might want to get up, you have a big day ahead of you.”  
I groaned and rolled over, my eyes adjusting to the light. “Coming!” I called, my voice cracking.  
I quickly opened my bag, pulling out a loose sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, not bothering to brush it. I opened my door, almost hitting the woman standing behind it. “Oh! I’m sorry,” I apologized.  
She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s fine, really.”  
Then she began striding down the hall. “Come along, now. You wouldn’t want to miss breakfast, would you?”  
I shook my head, despite the fact that the woman wasn’t facing me. She turned a corner, bringing me back to the dining room. My eyes promptly drifted to wear Hannes was seated in a corner with another burly man.   
I went to where the food sat and dished myself up. There was scrambled eggs and bacon, and I assumed it was a direct package from heaven.   
I sat down with the woman, who introduced herself as Tamika. “I’m new here,” she explained. “I came here under a study of the Bermuda Triangle six months ago. I was with a partner, but sadly, he didn’t survive the crash.”  
One of my hands covered my mouth in shock. Tamika dismissed this as though it was just another everyday thing.   
“It happens all the time,” she recovered quickly. “Plane crashes are not easy to survive.”  
I nodded sympathetically. “Were you close?”  
Tamika shook her head. “No. We had been assigned to each other just the day before. I barely knew anything about him.”  
We ate in silence for awhile, and I thought about how I had just met Hannes the day before. How hurt would I be if he had died?  
Tamika leaned in. “Not to be a probe, but, what’s your relation to him?” she asked, casually pointing her fork to Hannes.”  
I paused. We had chosen to be related, but how? “He’s my uncle, I think,” I said. “Actually, he could just be my godfather, I don’t know. My father died before I was born, and my mother died giving birth. They just gave me Ben’s last name.”  
Tamika looked at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dear.”  
I shook my head. “It’s not a big deal. I never even knew them. Ben’s the only family I’ve ever known.”  
Then Yvonne walked in, clapping her hands. “Alright, people, town meeting in ten. I want to see you all there.”  
I got up with Tamika to clear my plate. “Hope. Ben,” Yvonne said, pointing at us as she said our names. “Come with me.”  
I exchanged a quick ‘good-bye’ with Tamika and then went to Yvonne. “I don’t know how many times you’ve been in front of a crowd, so follow my lead,” she said.  
I nodded, unsure of what was happening.   
We walked through the front door where a large crowd had already gathered. They silenced when we appeared.  
Yvonne stepped forward, clearing her throat. “People of Akrolis, thank you for coming here this morning. As you can see, we have two visitors today.”  
At this, a murmur spread throughout the crowd. Yvonne clapped her hands again and they quieted. “This is Hope and Ben Young. They are Outsiders, and they have a transportation out of here.”  
More murmurs. I glanced to Hannes. His hands were clenched and his knuckles were turning white.  
“They have a helicopter, and they want to save us,” Yvonne continued.  
Before I could stop him, Hannes lunged. “Ben!” I shouted, grabbing his arm. He thrashed around, swiping at Yvonne. Instantly, multiple guards appeared to hold Hannes back from harming Yvonne.   
I turned to Yvonne, my eyes pleading. “Yvonne, please forgive him. He doesn’t believe we can save you.”  
But Yvonne’s eyes were cold, her face white from fear. “He will have to be contained.”  
“Yvonne…” but she ignored me, and turned back to Akrolis.  
“I’m very sorry. This will not happen again. Please go back to your daily schedule.”  
Then she strode off, into the building. My shoulders sagged as I watched Hannes struggle against the guards. “Gabriel!” he shouted. “Please, help me!”  
My eyes went wide, meeting his as we both realized his mistake. I quickly turned, and walked into the building. I ran up to my room and cried.

 

After that basically everyone ignored me, except for Tamika, who stopped by my room time to time. I knocked on Hannes door multiple times, but there was never an answer.   
I collapsed on my lumpy mattress, going over everything that had already happened.   
My theory is wrong  
Hannes hates our host  
Hannes is held in custody  
Everyone hates Hannes  
Everyone probably hates me. Except for Tamika and Hannes  
I skipped dinner that night, despite my stomach’s constant growls. I couldn’t face anyone. That night I couldn’t fall asleep. Lucky for me, I was awake to hear the soft knocking on my door.   
At first I thought I was imagining it, but then it continuously got louder. I cautiously threw the blankets off the bed, and crept over to the door. I threw it open to find a surprised Tamika. I relaxed. “What do you want?” I whispered. “It’s the middle of the night.”  
“It’s important,” she replied. “I found your friend.”  
That was enough to get me to creep around in a strange building in the middle of the night. The hallways were dark, and whenever you took a step it echoed, bouncing off every wall. I leaned in closer to talk to Tamika. “So, where is Ben, anyway?”  
“Downstairs.”  
I chose not to ask anymore questions. Tamika led me down the hallway, and then we went down a staircase. I constantly stumbled, tripping over the stairs I couldn’t see. Finally we couldn’t go down any further. I hissed when I realized where we were. There was multiple locked doors. We were in a jail.  
I went around knocking on the doors. “Ben? Ben?”  
“Hope?”  
I gasped, and ran to the cell I had heard his voice from. “Ben?”  
I peered through the tiny slits of the door, catching a glimpse of Hannes sitting on the ground, looking mangled and barren.   
“Oh, Ben, what have you done this time?”  
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hope. The people here are doomed. We can’t save any of them.”  
I heard Tamika suck in a sharp breath. “Please not here, not now, Ben,” I whispered.  
“We have to leave. They’re going to keep me here forever.”  
“Ben, we can trust them.”  
“They don’t trust me. We have to leave. Now.”  
“Now?” the word echoed. We couldn’t leave now. We had to help the people here.  
“Look, Hope, we can tell the government. Then they’ll know that it’s true and save the people.”  
I sat there, dwelling in what Hannes had said. Would the government help?  
“Tamika, do you have the keys?”  
“Mmhm.”  
She brought the keys over, and we let Hannes out. His face was already smudged with dirt. “I’m leaving tonight. Whether you’re coming or not.”  
I was heartbroken. I looked to Tamika. “Go,” she said, pushing me forward. “I’ll cover for you. There’s nothing you can do about our situation.”  
I stared at her for a second, then pulled her into a hug. “I’ll get you out of here,” I whispered in her ear. “I promise.”  
We went up to my room to grab my bag and then met Hannes outside. “You stay here,” I told Tamika. “We’ll make the walk on our own.”  
Then I turned and marched down the path, forcing myself to not look back. We reached the helicopter, finding it untouched. We climbed in, and Hannes started the engine. We accelerated, and then were flying away from the island.   
I stared out the window, watching until the island disappeared. Then I curled up and fell asleep.


	8. Fae and "Dear Evan Hansen" or Epilogue

When I woke up, I had no idea where I was. I wasn’t in the helicopter. I was in an unfamiliar room, and it smelled weird. My eyes shot open, then darted to the bright note on the ceiling.  
_Gabriel-_  
_I apologize that you might have woken with a start, but I did not want to wake you when we arrived. This is my house, and it’s safe. I don’t know what time it is for you, but when you wake up in the morning I will probably be awake._  
_See you in the morning-_  
_Han_  
I exhaled. I was okay. I looked around for a clock and found one on the nightstand next to my bed. It was 8:35. I got up, and wandered around the house. I ended up in the kitchen where Hannes was making breakfast.  
I sat down at the table tentatively, and then Hannes sat across from me. He slid a warm mug across the table. “You drink coffee?”  
I nodded, then brought it to my lips. I shivered, the coffee trickling down my throat, creating a weird sensation in my stomach.  
I set the mug down, careful not to spill or make a loud noise. Hannes got up again, then went to the toaster that I hadn’t noticed. He pulled out a few pieces of bread and sat one in front of me. “Sourdough bread,” he said, beginning to chomp on his own piece. “And butter.”  
I picked it up, then slowly took a bite as he watched. He nodded, satisfied, then went back to eating his own piece.  
“So,” Hannes said, attempting to start up conversation. “Are you going to back to the Conspiracy Theorists?”  
I shrugged. “I’m going to go to the government, first. Then-” I thought of Fae, sitting at home, doing nothing, and-I swallowed my bite of toast in one gulp. Watching Dear Evan Hansen.  
“Hannes, we have to leave, I have to get back, what day is it today?”  
“Um, Wednesday?”  
I looked at the clock. 8:48. “We still have time, I’ll explain it to you on the drive. Hurry!”  
I grabbed my bag, and ran outdoors where my rental vehicle was still sitting in the driveway. I flew in, jamming the keys into the ignition and starting the car. Hannes slid into the seat next to me just as I began pulling out.  
“Jesus, girl, slow down,” he said, pulling the door shut.  
I ignored him, then began tearing down the road. “I promised my friend that I would go to a performance with her,” I began. “And then I got the opportunity to prove my theory and I, I chose the theory.”  
I blinked, ordering myself not to cry. “We were going to leave today. At 9:30.”  
I looked at the clock. It was 8:52. “I have to make it. I have to make it up to her.”  
Hannes shook his head. “You’re not going to make it.”  
I jerked the car to a stop for a stop sign, then continued. “Please don’t say that.”  
“I’m stating the facts.”  
“Don’t say that!”  
We pulled up to my apartment, and I ran in. I flung items into my bag, and then ran back out. “Shoot, I have to lock the door, dang it, I have to lock the door!”  
I ran back in, locked the door, and then got back in the car, driving away. We pulled up at Fae’s house. I tossed the keys to Hannes. “Can you return the car?”  
He shrugged, then jumped over to the front seat. “I’ll be seeing you around?”  
I shook my head. “You never can be certain, can you?”  
He gave me a sort of salute, then drove off. I turned back to the house, taking a deep breath. Is she going to be mad at me?  
I swallowed, then began walking forward on my quivery legs. The porch creaked with each step. I stood in front of the door. Then I knocked.  
My heart was pounding. I wiped my hands on my leggings just as the door opened. Fae was standing there, her clothes wrinkled.  
I gasped, seeing her hair. She’d cut it. It was not longer in a beautiful cut with red tips. It was now in a jagged pixie cut. “You’re hair…” I whispered, reaching out a hand to touch it, but she moved away.  
“You left me,” she said quietly.  
My eyes filled with tears. “Fae, that was a mistake. I never wanted to leave you. Please, listen to me.”  
She didn’t move.  
I trembled. “I made the wrong choice,” I said. “I chose my own ambitions over someone else. You,” I said, taking a shuddering breath. “I’ll do anything, Fae, to make it up to you.”  
I swallowed. “We can still go to Dear Evan Hansen. And, if you really want me to,” my breath caught in my throat. “I’ll quit being a Conspires.” Whoa. Wait. What did I just say? But I didn’t correct myself. Fae was worth it.  
I saw her flinch. She knew how much this meant to me. She knew. Then I broke down crying, and she pulled me into an embrace. 

__

__

Two hours we were in Fae’s car, two hours away from Harnsney. “Slow down,” I cautioned. “Fae. Fae! You almost hit that car!” I cried.  
Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. “Backseat driver,” she muttered.

It had been a long time, and we were almost done with the “Dear Evan Hansen” soundtrack. Fae was certain we would get through it twice, but I wasn’t sure. We were on the song, “If I Could Tell Her,” which was Fae’s favorite song, and she wasn’t allowing any talking in the car until it finished.  
I stared out my window, the wind from Fae’s open window whipping my hair around. I didn’t think I was going to return to the Conspirators. I was going to return to college and find a new occupation that interested me. Conspirators seemed as though it would only cause problems, and definitely was a career option.  
I went through my mental checklist of possible jobs. I was considering being a costume designer, an accountant, and an architect sounded intriguing as well.  
I heard the music of “If I Could Tell Her,” began to fade, and I turned away from the window, prepared to start a conversation with Fae.


End file.
